One Boy Told Me

 

I HEART this poem, bigtime. A love letter to life and love, youth and imagination, and possibility.

 

 

One Boy Told Me - Naomi Shihab Nye

 

Music lives inside my legs.

It’s coming out when I talk.

I’m going to send my valentines

to people you don’t even know.

Oatmeal cookies make my throat gallop.

Grown-ups keep their feet on the ground

when they swing. I hate that.

Look at those 2 o’s with a smash in the middle—

that spells good-bye.

Don’t ever say “purpose” again,

let’s throw the word out.

Don’t talk big to me.

I’m carrying my box of faces.

If I want to change faces I will.

Yesterday faded

but tomorrow’s in boldface.

When I grow up my old names

will live in the house

where we live now.

I’ll come and visit them.

Only one of my eyes is tired.

The other eye and my body aren’t.

Is it true all metal was liquid first?

Does that mean if we bought our car earlier

they could have served it

in a cup?

There’s a stopper in my arm

that’s not going to let me grow any bigger.

I’ll be like this always, small.

And I will be deep water too.

Wait. Just wait. How deep is the river?

Would it cover the tallest man with his hands in the air?

Your head is a souvenir.

When you were in New York I could see you

in real life walking in my mind.

I’ll invite a bee to live in your shoe.

What if you found your shoe

full of honey?

What if the clock said 6:92

instead of 6:30? Would you be scared?

My tongue is the car wash

for the spoon.

Can noodles swim?

My toes are dictionaries.

Do you need any words?

From now on I’ll only drink white milk

on January 26.

What does minus mean?

I never want to minus you.

Just think—no one has ever seen

inside this peanut before!

It is hard being a person.

I do and don’t love you—

isn't that happiness?